Charles and Scarlett's Life Together
by PrincessAlica
Summary: This is a shows how Scarlett and Charles's first night together in the same bed might have gone. and also possible more moments of their life. -This a part of my lost moments of GWTW series.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: It only seemed right that I also do this night after giving you Scarlett's first times with her other two husbands. I think this is sad more than anything. And remeber this is the night after their wedding night because that night Charles slept in a chair._

Her feet ached, and her face felt frozen from all of the forced smiles that she had worn. But inside, her heart was breaking. Her Ashley, her precious golden Ashley was gone from her. He had married Melanie today in a simple ceremony. And the normally plain Melanie had shimmered with a happy glow. She had nearly been pretty in her joy, so much so that it surprised Scarlett. And now Ashley would be sharing his wedding night, his marriage bed, with Melanie. He had followed through just as he had said that he would. And so there was little left for her to do now.

Nothing mattered now. None of the feelings that she had held for Ashley had any relevance any longer, for not only was she married to Charles, Ashley was married to Melanie. She had been so stupid to think that marrying Charles to spite Ashley would do anything for her. And now, now there was no other choice than to allow Charles to have his way with her.

Mammy had already undressed her for the night, and somehow Scarlett knew that tonight she would not force Charles to sleep in the chair across the room from her. What did it matter anyway if Ashley could no longer be hers. She would not be the mistress of Twelve Oaks. Her perfect life would not be. Perhaps deep inside her mind, perhaps she had been harboring the hope that until Ashley married that it all could be undone, that Ashley would still ride in on a white steed and steal her away. But it had not happened, and the night found her sitting on her bed in her beribboned fine nightgown with Irish lace insets waiting for her husband on Ashley's wedding night, and the man coming to her was not him.

Her mother had explained briefly what the encounter with Charles would entail, but the thought of it terrified her. And her mother had been very vague with her information, only encouraging her that children would be a joy and a blessing. She consoled Scarlett that though those times with her husband might be humiliating that having children would more than make up for the unpleasantness. Words like unpleasantness and humiliation did little to ease Scarlett's already troubled and anxious mind. And yet Charles would be in from the dressing room at any moment. She trembled at the thought of the unknown, even as Charles emerged from the dressing room in his own night clothes. He glanced at his young bride. She looked so lost, but then his concern for her grew as she burst into tears. "Scarlett, darlin' don't cry." He crooned as he rushed to the bed. "I hate to see you cry."

She did not respond to him, only continuing to sob, making heart wrenching little choking sounds. "Honey, the war will be over soon enough. You don't need to be worried about me. I won't be gone for long." He offered trying to soothe her, but her sobs did not abate. He had no reason to understand her or even begin to imagine that her tears were not over the threat of his absence or his death. He had no idea the true reason for her tears. But why would he? He was a sweet and gentle boy and assumed all others to be like himself, for living in a home with Aunt PittyPat and his kind-hearted sister had done nothing to contradict his impression of life. And so he sat on the bed with his beautiful sobbing wife unsure of what to do. He held her to him, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. She felt so fragile in his arms, so very frail and small.

It was nice to be held, as long as she could pretend that it was someone else holding her and not look at his face. It wasn't that he was unattractive, for in truth he was handsome in his own right. But he was not the one that she wanted to be holding her, and that made all of the difference. He was sweet and kind and shy to a fault. But his greatest fault was that he was not Ashley Wilkes.

And as he held her, he began allowing his hands to rove over her body. It seemed that he was no more educated in the matters of marital relations than she. The few times that she did open her eyes, she could see the crimson blush that painted his face. He was both nervous and excited as he held her small body close to his. She was trembling from fear and from the agony that was ripping at her heart. Why should it matter what Charles did tonight, for she could not have Ashley.

Slowly, with fumbling awkward hands, he prepared himself for what was to come, knowing enough to understand what needed to be done. He kissed her, trying to distract her from her sadness, trying to remove her sorrows from her. He was so very eager with his kisses, and she turned from them sobbing. "Shhh, darlin'. It's going to be all right. Don't fret, honey. I don't want you to be sad." His hands traveled along her slender body, seemingly amazed and awestruck by her softness and the sweetness of the scent of her skin so near to him.

And then finally after allowing his hands to explore her body and his kisses to taste of her, he moved to consummate the marriage. It was obvious as he began that he was not experienced in the matter, nor had anyone explained much to him about the act itself other than the very basics. He was not a country boy who had been versed in animal husbandry from his childhood, unlike the Tarletons or Cade would have been. And she cried harder, now not from emotional pain. The pain was now physical. There was a burning pain followed by another sharper pain inside of her. And she cried. And all the while he was trying to soothe her and stop the tear flow. When she cried out in deep pain, he nearly cried with her. He didn't want her to hurt. He had looked forward to this moment with eager anticipation. But she was cringing and crying, and he knew that he was at fault. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." There were tears forming in his eyes.

The act itself was over soon enough, leaving the white sheets spotted with crimson blotches. And he tried to comfort her, tried to explain how sorry he was that she was in pain. But she pulled away from him, her bright green eyes shooting accusations at him for the trauma that he had caused.

She turned away from him and scooted to the very edge of the bed and continued to cry deep shuddering sobs, and each time that he tried to comfort her with a consoling hand, she jerked away from him. "Just leave me be. You've done enough." She told him with a hard edge to her voice. And finally he gave up. It didn't seem that he was any use when it came to consoling his wife. Perhaps this is what it was like for everyone. He thought that he must have done something wrong, and she was obviously too delicate for such a brutal act of the flesh. And for a flash he was almost ill at the thought of his sister enduring the same pain that Scarlett had, but Melanie did not stay in his mind for long. He was still consumed with thoughts of his wife next to him.

But she wouldn't allow him to touch her, and any words that he spoke would only result in more tears. And so he gave up and went to sleep.

And she lay there thinking of the nights that stretched before her of enduring this shame and humiliation until he left for war in less than a week's time, hoping never to have to feel like this again. No one told her it was going to hurt like this. No one had mentioned all of the pain. And yet here she was married to a man that caused her pain so intense that she couldn't help but cry. And she couldn't wait for him to be gone. And so she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything that would block out the pain.

But her heart still ached for the defection of Ashley's love had hurt her even more than Charles's awkward advances.


	2. Chapter 2

The air lay stagnant and oppressively warm. There was no breeze to stir it, and even the window dressings and bed clothes seemed more lax than usual. In the middle of the heat Scarlett lay in her bed morosely starring at the ceiling, not understanding why she was feeling so ill. She had never been sick more than a few days in her life and then with nothing much more serious than a little cold that was little more than an inconvenience and an excuse to avoid anything unpleasant. And yet this feeling hadn't abated in what seemed like an eternity. She had been sick almost constantly for more than a week by now. The dizzy spells annoyed her. Most smells sent her running for anything to vomit in. And then occasionally she was craving odd things that usually she would turn her nose up at. Her world that had begun to spin out of control that lovely April day at Twelve Oaks seemed only to grow more and more off-kilter.

The planks in the floor groaned outside the door alerting her to an imminent intrusion. "Miss Scah-Lutt, you done feeling any better yet?" Mammy quizzed as she lumbered through the door with a tray laden with piles of food. "I brought you some of your favorites. I thought I might tempt you to eat something."

As the aromas from the food reached her, Scarlett sprang from the bed and heaved into the empty basin. There was nothing in her stomach, and so she relieved her body of only bile and saliva. "Get it out of here!" she screeched. "I must be dieing. Get it out. Get it out now!" she wailed. Her mouth tasted bitter and sour, and she continued to heave into the vessel weakly.

Mammy carried the tray out the door and handed it off to one of the pickaninnys that was standing by for any order. Then she reentered the room and helped Scarlett who was weak and shaky back to her bed. "Chile, I doan think that you'se dieing. I think that yo mama needs to talk to you. She said that if you wasn't feeling no better then she would be seeing to you."

Scarlett lay back against the pillows, allowing Mammy to fluff them up. She really did feel quite awful. She had thought that it simply influenza, but a normal illness did not hang on like this. "Tell mother that if anything that I feel worse. She'll have to write Charles soon enough and tell him that I'm dead." She sniffed.

"Did yo git that letter from Mr. Charles that come for you?" Mammy asked.

"Yes. Its full of promises that the war will be over soon, and that he will be coming home a hero. He says that he wants to make me proud. The fighting hasn't even really started yet, and he said that they were going to be moving out of the camp outside of Charleston in a few days. I expect that there will be another in the mail today. It has been a few days since the last one." She stated with a breezy air.

"I'll be going ta fetch Ms. Ellen. I doan want my honey chile to be feeling sick like." Mammy said as she waddled out the door and shut it behind her.

Scarlett closed her eyes and gulped in a large breath of air that she had discovered could help the nausea to abate and blindly reached for Charles letter. Even if she didn't love him, it was pleasant to read about how wonderful someone else thought that you were. She opened her eyes, only to be faced with the disappointment that the illness would not disappear as she wished.

My Dearest Darling Wife,

Not a moment goes by that I don't miss you. I count the hours since I have seen you, and I only hope that they are much shorter until I can see you again. One week of marriage, of time spent with you, was not enough to quench my thirst to be in your presence. Your beauty puts the beauty of Aphrodite and that of the fair Helen to shame. I am the luckiest man alive to know that you are my wife. God has blessed me beyond comprehension to grant me the honor of living the rest of my life with you.

I only hope that I can prove myself worthy to call you my wife. I want to be a hero, in your honor...."

Scarlett set the letter aside for a moment as another wave of nausea hit her. She moaned, the pain was nearly enough to make her cry. What was happening to her? She hoped that mother would figure out how to make her feel better.

"Scarlett?" Ellen's soft voice drifted across the room, with a gentle melody in her tone that soothed and calmed all who encountered her.

"Mother?" Scarlett moaned.

"Oh, my darling, you look as if you are feeling even worse than Mammy conveyed. Tell me, what is ailing you?" Ellen said as she set herself carefully on the edge of Scarlett's bed, carefully spreading her skirts to prevent them from wrinkling.

"I'm constantly sick to my stomach. I keep getting dizzy and seeing black spots. My head feels hot. Nothing sounds good." Scarlett sobbed, "Mother, am I dying?"

"Darling, I don't think you are dying." Ellen soothed as she reached out to smoothe Scarlett's hair back away from her face. "You don't have a fever." Her usually kind expression faded into a more serious look, "Scarlett, how long has it been since your wedding, since you were intimate with your husband?"

Scarlett peered up at her, tears clinging to her sooty lashes. "He's been gone for seven weeks." She replied without understanding what connection her wedding would have with her illness.

"Have you considered that you could be with child? Ellen leaned closer as she whispered the possibility to her daughter.

Scarlett immediately began sputtering in protest. "No. No. That can't be. I can't... He can't have... It couldn't have..." she stammered.

"But it is possible, Darling. I think that is simply morning sickness that is plaguing you. I felt quite the same before I had you. You were too young when your sisters and brothers came for you to remember what it was like." Looking at her daughter's face, Ellen began trying to ease Scarlett's fears. "It's a blessing. Children are a blessing. And won't Charles be pleased." Ellen added quietly.

Scarlett wanted nothing more than bury her head into her mother's arms and sob and pretend that this wasn't true. She couldn't stand to think about what the days to follow would involve. She knew that she would grow fat and her lovely waist would disappear. None of her dresses would fit. Her life would be over. Oh, how she hated Charles. He had done this to her. She wouldn't e pretty anymore. Why had she been such a fool? Why had she said yes to his blundering proposal? Why hadn't she listened to her mother's warnings and pleadings?

Tears coursed down her face, and she found her mother's arms encircling her slim shoulders. "Don't worry. I know that this is quite frightening, and that everything is changing. But you will be fine. And your husband will be so pleased."

Scarlett sobbed harder. This was all Charles's fault. He was the one who was making her ill. Her constant nausea and dizziness, and all of her various ailments, they were all because of him. If only he were there in the room she would let him know just how much she hated him....

A knock sounded at Scarlett's bedroom door. "Mrs. O'Hara, I'm needing to be talking to you." Gerald's usually bawling voice carried through the door, but even in her haze of disbelief and anger and confusion Scarlett noticed that there was an odd tone to it.

"Just a moment, Mr. O'Hara. I'm tending to Scarlett. She's been feeling under the weather." Ellen dismissed calmly.

But Gerald did not go away, "Mrs. O'Hara, you must come and see this telegram that we just received. I wouldn't bother you if it wasn't necessary."

Ellen smoothed Scarlett's hair away from her face and brushed away the tears. "I'm coming Mr. O'Hara," she said in much louder tone than she usually employed. "Darling, I'll be back in just a moment. You are going to be fine."

Scarlett nodded and sniffled as she watched her mother slip out the door. Only moments after the door had shut, Scarlett heard a soft gasp, and then soft words that she could not make out. It was only a few moments after that both of her parents stepped into the room with somber expressions on their faces. Ellen's face showed the evidence of hastily spilled tears, and Gerald too looked on the verge of crying as there were fat tears welling in his blue eyes.

It was a rare moment that the both of her parents ventured into her room. Scarlett did not speak as she watched them with fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

"Scarlett, we have just received a telegram from Wade Hampton." Ellen began.

"That's Charles's commanding officer. It seems that he never stops talking about how impressed he is with him. Why you'd think that he hung the sun, moon, and stars." Scarlett said offhandedly. The tension in the room causing her to chatter.

Ellen's gentle voice broke through the words, "Scarlett, Charles was ill. He had a bout of measles, and then it was swiftly followed by pneumonia."

Her voice stilled, Scarlett stared blankly ahead.

"Scarlett, do you know what I am saying?" Ellen continued.

Scarlett shook her head, and a dismal vacant expression was clouding her eyes.

"Charles is dead." Ellen whispered.

Scarlett sat quietly, completely unmoving, which was at complete odds with her usual level of activity even feeling as poorly as she had been, it was a challenge to keep her still. Her silence and stillness was off putting and obviously worrying her parents. Finally she looked at her parents and spoke, "I need to be alone."

Ellen and Gerald looked at each other for a moment before they both slipped silently out the door, leaving their now widowed eldest daughter to cope with the developments of the day.

Scarlett was silent. There was no where to go, no one to go to. She was pregnant. She was a widow. The clothes of her girlhood were now far behind her. It wouldn't matter now if her pretty dresses didn't fit, she wouldn't be allowed to wear them. In such a short span of time her world had gone from a million brilliant shades of color to dismal somber black. Her world was black. Her life was black.

And she was helpless to change it, helpless to do anything. And the words did not seem real, no more read to her than a fairy story that Gerald would tell them before bidding them goodnight. How could Charles be dead? Hadn't he just sent her a missive extolling her virtues, extolling promises of glory and greatness?

His clothes were still hanging in her closet, amid her brightly colored dresses. His scent was still present in the room, underneath the smell of sickness.

She had not loved him, but he was a friend, a beau. He was someone that she had known for years whether or not they had ever been close. He had been nothing but sweet to her, and the loss pierced her heart deeply as the first death of a close friend is wont to do. She could clearly picture his warm brown eyes and feel his smooth white hands clinging to hers. She could hear his voice whispering words of endearment, passionate promises that he now would never keep. It didn't matter that she had not loved him for he was hers, and that possession made her feel the loss more keenly than she had ever felt a loss before.

_in response to some of the reviews: _

_To explain what my reasons were behind writing this, It isn't that she was so sad about Charles dying, its the shock to the system that really is the issue. It's more the observation of teenage girls when someone they knoew dies. It doesn't matter if they are particularly close to that person, all that matters is that they know them. I've seen many girls sobbing becaseu someone who was in their math class died or someone that they passed in the hallways died. It doesn't matter if they are really sad, they are going to react because everything for a sixteen year old girl is bigger and more dramatic, at least that is what I've observed and what I remember. She is only two months out from marrying someone because Ashley turned her down. She is a very dramatic person. Thanks again! And I apologize if this seems defensive, but I wanted to share my thougts for making Scarlett care more than most think that she did. And Also we don't hear anything about Scarlett being horribly bored until after Wade's death which gives me the chance to say that she might have mourned for Charles for a little bit, but again she is a teenage girl and nothing lasts forever. Mourning doesn't last for long. But the shock of losing someone is going to do something to her._

_Alica_


End file.
